


Hollow Be Thy Name

by scorpia



Category: Modao Zushi - All Media Types, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Lan Brother Feels, Lan Xichen POV, M/M, Minor description of past injuries, Pining Lan Wangji, Pre-Resurrection, Pre-Slash, The 16 years, Wei Ying has already died, good brother xichen, sad lan wangji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29389776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpia/pseuds/scorpia
Summary: As Wangji’s confession left his body, so did what little energy he had left to control his mask, and Xichen watched as he began to wilt before him. He could not bear to see his brother this way. The way that the tension drained from his face and left him emotionless and pale. The way his hand holding the teacup had gone slack. The way his eyes gazed at the sediment floating at the bottom of the cup without truly seeing.As if they did not want to see. As if the world was not worth seeing anymore.Not without him in it.
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Hollow Be Thy Name

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for your interest in my work! 
> 
> **This piece will be working with the timeline and events from the live action, “The Untamed,” so I’m sorry to any fans out there who prefer the book. I’m not trying to pick sides here, I just have not finished the book yet. This story takes place the first day of Lan Wangji’s return from his healing exile to the back hills of Cloud Recesses, so Wei Wuxian is already dead, and has been for three years.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

Lan Xichen paced his Hanshi.

There were several Gusu rules that concerned productivity, fidgeting, and wasting one’s mental abilities on something that could not be changed, and he was breaking them all. He was well aware of these rules as he has abided by them for the entirety of his life. After all, it was the Lan way to make oneself useful in any spare time one may find themselves to have.

Being aware of these rules, however, did not make him currently capable of following them. His many unsuccessful attempts to complete even small tasks were proof that he could not keep his focus. No matter how he tried to clear or distract his mind, it wandered back to the same thoughts.

Wangji was finally healed enough to leave the back hills. It had been three, long, painful years and finally his brother could rejoin the rest of the clan. What was the Lan way in comparison to the eagerness he felt in waiting to see his brother back where he belonged?

He knew Wangji surely must have returned from the back hills by now. It was mid-morning already. What could be keeping him from coming to see his older brother? Xichen would have been there to see him home, of course, waiting by the barrier with a smile at the ready, if it had not been for the Grandmaster.

Their uncle expressly forbid him from awaiting Wangji’s return at the entrance to the back hills. He did not want it to feel as though Wangji was being welcomed back as if from some heroic journey. The injuries he sustained were from the discipline whip, and the resulting time he needed to recover was to be seen as an extension of his punishment. Indeed, Lan Qiren thought of this as a time for Wangji to reflect on his misdeeds and atone, to study the Gusu Rules and try to find his way again.

As leader of the clan, Xichen had contemplated disobeying his uncle’s wishes and going regardless; but he knew their uncle hated it most when he and Wangji were defiant. He worried doing so would anger the Grandmaster enough to banish Wangji to the back hills for a few more days, and Xichen could not do that to his brother.

Nevertheless, he knew it was only a matter of time before Wangji came to him of his own accord, most likely after Uncle had spoken to Wangji himself and asked him whether or not he had learned his lesson. Either way, he could think of nothing else that would delight him more than to see his brother’s face and welcome him home. He had visited his brother as often as he was able during his three year absence, but it had not been nearly enough, and he missed him terribly.

Already twice today he had gotten his hopes up falsely when he heard a knock at his door that was no more than one of his clansmen seeking his approval for something. Xichen sighed. He needed to steady his emotions.

Just as he was sitting down to attempt meditation for the third time, he heard another, gentle, more subdued knock at his door.

“Enter,” he called out, his heart thumping in his chest as he was sure that this was a knock he recognized.

This time he was not disappointed. As the door slid open, Wangji was revealed to him, a vision in white robes with Bichen grasped firmly in hand. Xichen smiled as his brother stepped in and closed the door behind him. Wangji bowed as Xichen stood, and he was quick to catch his brother’s arm, stop him in the motion. He did not need the formalities, not at a time like this.

“It brings my soul joy to see you, Wangji,” he said in earnest.

Wangji straightened into his customarily distinguished posture and nodded wordlessly at Xichen, who watched how gracefully he rose with relief. He tried not to imagine the collection of scars that he knew to be on his brother’s back, tried not to think of how long he knew it had taken his brother to be able to stand with such regal posture again. Wangji was here now, and he was healed, that was all that mattered.

“How are you?” Xichen asked with a gentle smile.

“Well,” Wangji answered.

Xichen studied his younger brother’s face, taking in every detail. He took a moment to be gladdened by the realization that, despite the lack of steady contact they had had these last three years, he could still read his brother as easily as calligraphy on a scroll. The gladness he felt came with a price, however, because this meant that he could tell immediately that Wangji was lying to him.

It was exceedingly obvious to Xichen that he was not well at all. The neutrality of his face was too practiced and his eyes were glazed, only a sliver of emotion reflected in them – an emotion which Wangji was clearly trying very hard to mask. It was reminiscent of when they were children, after Wangji had learned of their mother’s death. It was the face he wore to hide that he was deeply troubled.

“Oh, Wangji, why do you still try to hide from me?” he asked as softly as he could.

Wangji’s eyes met the floor. His grip on Bichen shifted minutely, but he stayed silent as Xichen knew he would. There was no hope of receiving an answer to such a question. He would have a more fruitful conversation asking the sky why it kept itself so far from human hands. It was simply Wangji’s nature, and Xichen would not ask for him to alter it.

He changed the subject for his brother’s sake.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Mn.”

The brothers sat down at Xichen’s table, Wangji placing his sword on the ground at his side, and Xichen set about pouring them two cups of herbal tea and carefully handing one to Wangji. They remained quiet as they drank, but Xichen did not mind, time spent with his brother was often this way, and he felt at peace simply having Wangji sitting across from him.

When their cups were almost empty, Wangji set his down with a sense of finality, and Xichen could sense he was considering something. He was curious to ask what could have preoccupied Wangji so thoroughly, but knew better than to interrupt his internal deliberations. So, he took another sip of his tea and waited for his brother to act upon his thoughts.

“I would like your permission to travel,” Wangji stated, meeting Xichen’s gaze steadily despite the unusual request.

Xichen could not help himself the small furrow of his brow. This was not what he was expecting his brother to say. He set his own cup down. “And where is it that you would like to go?”

Another emotion flickered in Wangji’s eyes, too fleeting for Xichen to identify, but he answered without hesitation. “Nightless City.”

Ah. The confused furrow in Xichen’s brow lifted in realization. He chided himself for not having foreseen this. “I assume you are asking me because you know better than to ask for Uncle’s permission.”

Wangji did not respond, but his eyes shifted to the teacup gripped in his hand, betraying his shame at being caught.

Xichen sighed, knowing he must be prudent with his response. “You’ve only just returned to us. Have you even seen Lan Yuan?”

Wangji’s gaze came back to meet his at the mention of the boy’s name. Xichen continued hopefully.

“He has been asking after you every day since he last saw you. I know he’s been eager to tell you of his studies and of his progress in cultivating his Golden Core.”

“Mn. Uncle had said he is doing well. I will see him after I take my leave here.”

Xichen felt his lips tug into an involuntary smile. “He is a bright young boy and very social. He has made friends, and the tutors are pleased with him, though he has made attempt to clutch at some of their legs,” he chuckled lightly.

Wangji swallowed, nodding his head once. “It is his way of showing that he likes someone,” he said quietly.

Xichen hummed. “That is gratifying to know, considering he has twice clutched at me.”

He had taken it upon himself to be present in the boy’s life as much as possible while Wangji recovered. A-Yuan was sweet-tempered, but he could also be humorous in his words and actions. There were several instances in his earlier days at Cloud Recesses where he had made those around him raise a quizzical brow.

Memorably, there was the time when A-Yuan had learned that he would be taught how to play the guqin, as every disciple of the Lan clan was. The little boy had been so adamant that he would rather learn how to play the flute instead that he sent himself into hysterics. Xichen had calmly explained the significance of the guqin to the tearful boy, and when he asked, A-Yuan could give no answer as to why he favored the flute so strongly. Xichen had offered for the boy to learn the flute as a second instrument, but when he heard how Wangji was a master of the guqin, A-Yuan had happily proclaimed that he would learn to be as well.

Day by day the boy was finding his footing in Cloud Recesses, growing more confident in himself and letting that confidence improve his abilities. Remembering how he had first arrived, so severely ill that the healers could not be certain of his survival, Xichen was not afraid to admit that he was proud of how far A-Yuan had come, how pleased it made him to see the boy’s lively spirit. He could see why Wangji had brought him to Cloud Recesses to be adopted into their clan. The boy had a strong will and a good heart.

“I think he enriches our clan with his presence,” Xichen said sincerely.

“Mn.” Wangji agreed. He nodded again at hearing such praise for the boy, but there was something in his expression. Xichen knew Wangji cared for A-Yuan, so he should be pleased that he had been so wholly accepted by the clan. But there was a shadow clinging to his face, holding it back from showing contentment at the news, making it forlorn.

Xichen sighed. Even talk of the boy he saved could not distract Wangji from the burden in his mind. Xichen supposed it was foolish of him to think that anything could. There was no use in further delaying the conversation they needed to have.

“Wangji . . . the area has already been searched,” he began cautiously. Despite the abrupt change in both subject and tone, he knew that his brother understood what he was referring to. “Jiang Cheng took a group of men and searched the grounds directly after the battle. And it has been investigated extensively several times since then. There is nothing there that would not have already been found.”

His brother said nothing, instead choosing to resolutely stare again at the teacup in his hand, but Xichen noticed that it appeared Wangji was holding himself back from voicing an objection.

Xichen hesitated before continuing. He did not wish to say it so directly, but it had to be said. He would never forgive himself if he allowed Wangji to hope only for that hope to be destroyed. He needed to prepare his brother for the possibility, even if he did not wish to face it. “I know it is suspicious that no body was ever recovered, but that does not mean he is out there somewhere.”

Uncharacteristically, Wangji’s shoulders visibly tensed and Xichen felt the immediate sting of it in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to protect his brother’s feelings in this matter, but he also wanted to preserve the dignity and honor that Wangji had worked his entire life to attain. Rushing back to Nightless City the moment he was healed could result in a stain on his reputation should anyone find out.

Xichen cleared his throat lightly. “I will not be one to tell you how to mourn. We both know loss is difficult. I understand –”

“You do not understand,” Wangji said, quietly yet firmly, his hand clenching too tightly around his half-finished cup of tea.

Xichen could almost not believe his ears. It was not like Wangji to say such things. He was about to open his mouth and respectfully say as much – that Wangji should not say something so thoughtless, especially given how they have already lost both of their parents – but Wangji surprised him by speaking again, his voice barely a whisper.

“He had all . . .”

_Of me._

Xichen could hear the words even if his brother did not say them out loud. They echoed in the silence between them. The partially-completed admission served as his brother’s apology for speaking brashly to him, but Xichen did not need an apology. He knew why he had done it.

He had been wrong before. When Wangji first entered the Hanshi, and Xichen comforted himself with the thought that his brother was physically healed, he told himself that was all that mattered. But he was wrong. Wangji may be physically well, but he was far from emotionally healed. It had been three years and his brother was still haunted by this, more so than he could ever communicate.

Xichen had known this would always been a sensitive topic for his brother, just as their parents are, but he had hoped Wangji had been able to process what had happened and do some amount of mourning during his recovery. Looking at Wangji’s face now, it was clear that, for him, the wound was as fresh as it was at Nightless City.

As Wangji’s confession left his body, so did what little energy he had left to control his mask, and Xichen watched as he began to wilt before him. He could not bear to see his brother this way. The way that the tension drained from his face and left him emotionless and pale. The way his hand holding the teacup had gone slack. The way his eyes gazed at the sediment floating at the bottom of the cup without truly seeing. As if they did not want to see. As if the world was not worth seeing anymore. Not without _him_ in it.

Even if this was the face he has known since Wangji’s birth, Xichen could not recognize him. This was not the Wangji he knew. This man before him was hollow. His brother was many things - proper, aloof, introverted, repressed - but never hollow, never so devoid of feeling and purpose.

His brother had a spark in him before, something that Wangji used to fight against so it would not dictate his actions and throw him off his chosen course. His words and actions now were no more than perfunctory. It made Xichen’s insides twist painfully. After all Wangji had been through in his life, it only took one boy to change him forever.

He wondered if he should feel remorse. After all, it was he who pushed the two of them together, who encouraged his brother to make friends with Wei Wuxian. Is it then partially his fault that Wangji was like this now?

As much as he felt that he should take some of the blame, he knew that it was not true. Whether Xichen had encouraged their interactions or not, Wangji would have fallen for the boy anyway. Wei Wuxian was an enchanting, carefree, brilliant disaster who shone like the sun, and Wangji gave his heart and soul to him completely.

Xichen could never take credit for what was inevitable to happen, for the incredible way that their minds and souls connected. And he could never feel remorse for something that gave his brother such happiness. Even if it ended as it did, it made Wangji feel alive for however short a time. How could he ever regret something so important to his dearest brother?

So, perhaps Wangji was right. Maybe Xichen did not understand what it was to mourn in this way. To have his very essence mix so thoroughly with another person’s and then watch as that person was unceasingly persecuted and taken away from him. To feel as though the death of another could rob him of who he was.

No. Xichen has never loved like that.

If he were an outsider, it would surprise him that his brother has. Wangji with his statuesque face and dignified behavior, always following and enforcing the rules. But he was no outsider. Xichen knew his brother, could always see the embers of passion within him that had the potential of burning him alive. Wei Wuxian made the embers catch fire, and when he was no longer there to stoke and control the flame, it consumed Wangji entirely before extinguishing, leaving in its wake nothing but devastation and ash.

Xichen looked upon his brother’s face, and still saw no resemblance to Wangji in the corpse-like man that sat before him. He knew his brother needed to go to Nightless City and find answers for himself if he ever had a hope of healing from this. But Xichen wanted his life to be worth returning to should he ever begin to move on, and the one way that would happen was if Wangji was not disgraced by their clan for being rebellious and openly sympathizing with a man who was believed to be a monster.

He nodded to himself, sure of what he had to do.

“I am sorry, brother. I cannot give you my permission to travel to Nightless City.”

Wangji looked up at him, resigned to the answer he received. If Xichen thought it were possible, he would say that Wangji seemed to close himself off even further.

“Do not mistake me, I have no qualms with you wanting to go there, but Uncle would. He would be enraged if he found out that I approved such a request. I will not lie to Uncle, and I do not wish to see him angry at you should he ask where you have gone.”

Xichen stood while Wangji continued to sit, his grip on the teacup coming back more forceful than it had been before, but Xichen was grateful for even that sign of life. He moved to his desk, leaning down and opening a decorative box placed on one side, taking a rolled up scroll and a talisman from within it.

“Instead, I will ask you to deliver this to the Ouyang clan for me,” he said, turning around to face Wangji and moving back to the table. “It is a task that needs doing. I was meant to deliver these myself, but I am a busy man and there is no reason you should not be the one to do it.”

Confusion registered on Wangji’s face as he observed the items. He glanced from them to Xichen, looking for the answer to an unasked question.

“If, while you are away completing this task, you happen to travel elsewhere before returning . . . Well, that would not have been the reason you left Cloud Recesses, and therefore would not be a part of the answer I give to Uncle should he ask where you have gone.”

The confusion cleared from Wangji’s face immediately, and from one moment to the next it was as if he had come back to life. It was not happiness, Xichen was not sure that Wangji was capable of feeling happiness in this state, but it was something, a step forward, one that Xichen would take gladly.

Wangji stood swiftly, accepting the items with a bow. When he straightened, he met Xichen’s eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again before anything could come out, clearly at a loss for what to say. Xichen smiled at him. He did not want his brother’s thanks, he wanted his brother to be well again, whatever that may take.

Wangji bent down as graceful as he has ever been to pick up Bichen from where he set it on the ground. He nodded at Xichen, and turned to leave. Xichen watched him go, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, he went to the corner of his room and lit incense to help ease his mind. Inhaling deeply, he hoped if there was anything to find in Nightless City, that Wangji would be the one to discover it.

He waited for several minutes, contemplating, before going to retrieve his guqin from its storage. He knew the chances were slight and he assumed Wangji had surely done this before several times himself, but he owed it to his brother to try. Sitting down in front of the instrument, he placed his hands over the strings and took a moment to gather his spiritual energy. With a calm mind, his fingers started to move and the sounds of Inquiry began to ring throughout his room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day!


End file.
